Ninety Five

Asher’s POV

I could see what had made the sound I heard upstairs. There was a chair lying on its side near her feet, a casualty of her midnight quest for hydration, I supposed.

She must have come down to drink some water and didn’t bother to turn on the light in the room. A shattered glass glinted on the floor nearby, its shards right there a few feet away from her own.

It was scattered across the tile floor, and May's bare feet were dangerously close to the broken pieces. I looked at her and I wanted to rush to her to shake her.

Why was she never bothered about herself anyway?

"Oh my God, Asher! You scared the life out of me," May exclaimed, her hand clutching at her chest that was now visible to my eyes now with the water making the shirt clung to her.

That was such a disaster, I told myself, because it would be something I think about as well for the rest of the night.

“What are you even doing here?” I asked and she looked at me as if I had lost my head.

“I should be asking you tha